


Love For All Seasons

by tfm



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Flowers, Fluff, Language of Flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22420627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfm/pseuds/tfm
Summary: Yasha keeps trying to give Beau flowers. Things keep getting in the way.Post episode ninety-two.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 14
Kudos: 335





	Love For All Seasons

It started with the rain.

They were about a day north of Kamordah; the ground was still barren and muddy, turned strange colours, Beau told them, from all the minerals in the soil. It was so similar to the Iothia Moorlands, and yet so different.

Yasha hated it.

Not least of all because Beau still looked as though she was about to burst into tears at any second. Not that she would ever say anything. Yasha had never seen the other woman like this, so strong, and yet so vulnerable.

The other reason, though, was that there was no life. The ground was alive, technically, Caleb said, but not in any way that Yasha recognized as life. It sputtered, and burst into the air with the heat of the earth beneath it, but it did not grow, or change, or bloom.

Caleb cast his dome, and after they were all beneath it, he cast another spell to make the ground dry. The rest of the Mighty Nein wasted no time in setting out their bedrolls.

'You know, Beau, I'm sure your parents wouldn't have minded if we'd stayed the night,' Nott said, and Beau, halfway into her own pack, froze. She swallowed. Steeled herself. Before Yasha could say anything, though, Caleb had made a comment about wanting to get on the road quickly. He was eying Beau with the same cautious curiousity that both Fjord and Caduceus were, and Beau, for her part, was pretending not to notice.

Yasha reached into her bag, and found the book on manners and etiquette that Mollymauk had gifted to her so long ago. Some days, she missed him so much it felt like a physical pain.

Yasha flipped through the book, for the first time since her mind had returned to itself. Some of the flowers were intact, but others had taken on a brownish sort of stain on the edge of the petals. The Other Yasha, as Yasha had taken to calling her brainwashed self, had not taken care to keep the book at the bottom of the pack, where the weight would help press the flowers.

She frowned, and let the rotting petals scatter to the ground.

The ones that remained had been reserved for Zuala. It would not seem right to give them to anyone else, no matter how much she wanted to. if only she had magic like Caleb, or Jester, or Caduceus, and could create beautiful things with the lightest touch of her fingers.

Instead, she tore a page from the back of her book. There were more than a few missing pages here, from where Molly had taught her to make all different kinds of folded flowers. There had been a long while, traveling through the more barren parts of the Empire, where she hadn't seen any flowers to pick.

The page that she ripped was a very dry treatise on table manners, and, frankly, was much more interesting as a tulip, or a lily. Her folds were clumsy, and she had to start again more than once, but by the end, it was just about possible to distinguish it as a flower.

Around midnight, the rain stopped, and Yasha heard the scrambling of someone getting out of their bedroll.

Though Beau had situated herself in the center of the group, surrounded by them, she somehow managed to leave the dome without disturbing anyone's slumber. For a moment, Yasha considered following, but decided against it. If Beau had wanted company, she would have asked.

Instead, Yasha took the folded flower, and put it atop the scrunched up robes that Beau was using as a pillow. The monk could not have missed it when she returned to the dome fifteen minutes later (eyes wet with tears), but she did not say anything.

The next morning, as they packed up their camp, Beau gave Yasha a squeeze on the arm, and a small smile, but said nothing. Yasha took it for the thanks that she knew it was.

* * *

They continued north, and dealt with the thing that they needed to deal with. The hag was dead, and both Nott and Beau were distant, and still, there were no flowers.

The rain pelted down incessantly, and Yasha wondered if the Stormlord was responsible. He brought the rain whether she needed it or not, and right now, a dry patch would probably have been welcomed.

Yasha's book was so damp that when she tried to fold another flower, the paper tore. In the interest of keeping the rest of her flowers intact, she wrapped the book in oilskin, and shoved it deep into her bag.

Jester seemed to notice her frustration as she dried the book out that night next to the fire. It was warm and dry in the dome, but outside was so miserable that no-one hard argued when Beau had shoved a handful of wet wood into Caleb's hands, and demanded that he light them up.

'You know wet paper is still good for so many different kinds of art.' Yasha raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

'How many kinds?'

'Oh, you could do like….paper mache, or watercolors…' She paused. 'Okay, maybe just two kinds of art.' The second option appealed to Yasha far more than the first. She looked over towards the edge of the dome, where Beau was sitting, knees drawn up to her chest. The hag had said some horrible things, and no amount of reassurance from the rest of the group had pulled Beau from that mood that had gripped her since they'd left Kamordah.

Jester got out her paints - her normal paints, not her magical paints - and showed Yasha how to wet the brush the right way. On a page torn from Jester's sketchbook, Yasha painted red and orange and purple flowers on top of a field of green. 'She doesn't like yellow,' Jester whispered, as Yasha looked over the paints, deciding which color to do next.

'What?'

Jester indicated her head towards Beau. In that same whisper: 'Beau, she doesn't like yellow.'

Yasha picked a bright blue, the same color as Beau's eyes. When she was finished, she set the picture by the fire to dry.

The rain stopped again, briefly, and once again, Beau left the dome for a spell. 

This time, Yasha followed. She found the monk sitting on a boulder, legs crossed and eyes closed. During the daytime, it would have been picturesque. At night, though, when all Yasha could see was shades of grey, it was almost haunting. 

She made as much noise as possible on her approach, not wanting to startle Beau. It wasn't as though it would have mattered. Yasha wasn't very stealthy anyway.

'If you're here to talk, I don't want to.' Beau's eyes didn't open.

Yasha faltered. 'I'm sorry...I will leave you alone.'

The eyes opened. 'Oh, shit. You're fine, Yasha. I thought it was going to be Caduceus, or Fjord or something.' Yasha didn't know why Caduceus or Fjord would have been a less preferable option.

'May I sit?' Yasha indicated to the boulder next to Beau. Beau shifted to the side to make room. 'We don't have to talk,' Yasha continued, once she had sat down. The rock was cold, and still a little wet beneath her leathers. 'I just know...when I was having trouble, it was nice to just have other people around.'

She was still having trouble, really, but it hardly seemed like the time to bring it up. Right now, Beau was the one who needed her support. Once or twice, the monk looked like she wanted to say something, but then didn't.

'I, ah...painted this,' Yasha said, holding the picture out to Beau. She almost added _for you_ , but felt like that might've been a little too forward.

Beau took the picture, and stared at it. Yasha was sure she could see tears pressed in the other woman's eyes. _Was it that bad?_

'Thanks, Yash,' Beau said, in a choked sort of whisper. She tucked the picture in an inside pocket of her coat. 'I… Thanks.' 

They sat in silence for a time, until it started to rain again. 

* * *

They headed south. 

Orly was due to meet them in Nicodranas, and they were a few days early. 

Though it was nearing the height of summer, Yasha did notice some yellow and white flowers in full bloom along the verge of the burning cobblestone roadway. She went to pick some, but was stopped by the sudden shout and drawn sword from the nearest Zhelezo.

For a brief moment, Yasha considered drawing her own sword, but then remembered that they were already on somewhat shaky ground in Nicodranas, what with Jester technically being banned from the city, and it wouldn't do for the rest of them to become banned as well.

Reluctantly, Yasha stepped backwards, hands out to indicate that she was not going to try anything stupid.

Caduceus, who had been watching the whole affair go down with his keen eye, said, 'I always find tea is a wonderfully thoughtful thing to bring someone. Especially when they've been under the weather.' Yasha didn't entirely think that "under the weather" was an appropriate description for the way that Beau was feeling, but she could tell that Caduceus meant well, so she ignored it.

He gave her a few different kinds of leaves to try. Yasha eventually decided on one that he'd called Passionflower ('From the Matthias family. Good for stress relief.')

The tea had a mild flavor; not at all what Yasha was expecting. She took two steaming mugs of the stuff up to the second floor of the Lavish Chateau, where she and Beau were sharing a room. Yasha tried not to seem too thankful that Jester was spending the night in her mother's room.

Beau was sitting cross-legged on the bed, writing in her journal. Yasha took that as a good sign. It had been weeks since she'd seen Beau going over her notes regarding Tharizdun, and the Beacons, and everything else that was going on. She looked up as Yasha entered.

'Hey.' Beau smiled. It was still a sad sort of smile.

'Hi.' Yasha indicated the cups in her hand. 'I brought tea.'

'Oh, cool.' Beau shut her journal with a snap, and took the proferred cup. She clasped it in her hands for several minutes, as though relishing the warmth. 'Thanks,' she said, finally. 'I mean thanks for more than just the tea. You've been really…' She paused. Swallowed. 'Thanks.'

* * *

TravelerCon was… Interesting. 

A lot of things happened that Yasha didn't even remotely understand, but Jester seemed to be enjoying herself, which was the important thing.

'Should we be participating?' Yasha asked, frowning, on the the first day, vaguely aware there was something happening involving dicks and volcanos.

'Gods, I hope not,' Beau shuddered. 'Join the party of one over here, and take advantage of the open bar.' Yasha was not entirely sure how the Traveler had managed to even _get_ a bar onto the island, which, as far as she could tell, had not had any living inhabitants prior to TravelerCon.

Gods worked in mysterious ways, apparently. Beau was doing a very impressive job on a very large cocktail that had been poured into a coconut. She had taken the lei she'd been given, and wrapped it around her head like a headband. They were both wearing brightly colored shirts with flowers on them, popular in Port Zoon, if Fjord were to be believed.

Yasha flagged down the bartender, and ordered the same thing that Beau was drinking. It was nice. Very fruity, and very alcoholic. Definitely not a Jester-led endeavor.

Yasha fingered the flowers of her own lei, and dismissed the thought of giving it to Beau. Beau already had one; another wouldn't exactly be special.

'Do you want to go for a walk?' Yasha offered, when she'd finished her first drink. Her head was mildly fuzzy, but it generally took a lot more alcohol than that to make her even remotely tipsy.

'Sure,' Beau agreed, downing the rest of her drink, and following it up with a loud burp.

Yasha had seen a number of flowers in the jungle on their way to the volcano proper, though she hadn't quite had the chance to examine them properly. They took their time wandering through, Beau doing pull-ups on any random branches at the right height, and Yasha keeping an eye out for the perfect flower.

After about ten minutes, she found it. It was about the size of her palm, and a brilliant sky blue color. She leaned over to smell it. It smelled like...well, it smelled nice. Yasha didn't quite have all the right words to describe what it smelled like, but it made her think of a fresh sea breeze.

'Nice,' Beau commented, leaning over. Yasha made to pluck it from its vine, too late noticing the way the bulb of the flower seemed to pulse and contract.

'Yasha!' Beau called out. Yasha felt a hand pulling her backwards, even as the flower emitted a puff of foul-smelling liquid. She coughed. She felt dizzy. The smell of sea-breeze had gone, replaced by something that she could only describe as...poopy.

Beau wrinkled her nose. 'Gross,' she said.

* * *

Yasha was glad to get back onto the mainland. She was not as apprehensive about being on a boat as Nott, who was as anxious as ever, but she did not like the feeling of being unable to escape.

When they returned to Nicodranas, the first thing Yasha did was go for a long walk. In doing so, she noticed the thing she had somehow missed entirely the first half dozen or so times she'd been there. It was in an alleyway off the main square, and she wouldn't have gone down there at all if she hadn't seen a well-dressed half-elven man emerge with a bunch of ruby red roses.

'Excuse me.' She moved to stand in front of the man. He looked suddenly afraid.

'Look, I'm just bringing her flowers, okay, she does't have to send her-'

Oh dear. 'No, I just want to know where you got them.'

'Oh.' A look of sheer relief crossed the man's face. 'There's a florist just around the corner there. Sorry for...assuming.' He was staring at the two enormous swords strapped to Yasha's back.

She followed the alley around, and eventually came upon the tiny florist. There were more flowers than she had ever seen before in her life, red ones and black ones and multi-colored ones. Yasha spent a long time agonizing over her decision before (with the help of a very harried looking gnomish shopkeeper) eventually deciding on a single blue iris.

'It means hope!' the gnome said, brightly. Yasha stared at him.

'They have meanings?'

He rattled off on a treatise on all the different flower meanings, which had Yasha's head reeling. She paid a gold coin for the flower, the gnome very happy with the substantial tip. She gave him another five gold when he showed her the book that had all the different meanings of the flowers.

Afterwards, she went directly back to the Chateau, directly to the second floor, her heart pounding. She felt it would not have the same meaning as if she had given it all those weeks ago on the outskirts of Kamordah.

Still. Better late than never.

Beau was sitting on the bed, repacking her bag. She looked up when Yasha entered. 'Hey.'

'I have something for you,' Yasha breathed, knowing she would not have the courage to do it if she did not do it straight away. She handed Beau the flower. Beau stared at it.

Too late, Yasha thought of the thing she really should have thought of months ago. DId Beau even like flowers?

'You…' Beau's voice cracked. 'You got this for me?'

'It means hope,' Yasha said. She could not think of what else to say. There were so many things she wanted to say, and yet she could not figure out how. The book seemed to burn a hole in her pocket.

Beau smiled, and Yasha was sure that it was the first real, happy smile she had seen from Beau in some time. 'I love it,' Beau said.

* * *

The Mighty Nein sat in a circle, exhausted and wounded.

Caduceus set about doing a Prayer of Healing, while Caleb cast the dome.

The fight had certainly taken it out of them. 'Next time,' Fjord breathed, 'Perhaps we should try and negotiate with scary wizards before attacking them, yes?'

There was a murmering of assent. Beau grinned slightly. She had a nasty looking cut across her temple that Caduceus's spell hadn't quite healed. Yasha put a hand to Beau's shoulder, and let her meagre healing wash through.

'Thanks,' Beau said, wiping the blood from her forehead.

Jester passed out pastries from the haversack; though they were a little stale, it was enough to tide Yasha over until Caduceus finished cooking. Caleb pored over the small pile of magic items that they had found, including a staff, an amulet, and some strange gems.

Yasha was surprised, after he was finished, to see him thrust the staff in her direction. 'I am not a magic user,' she protested. 'Surely you or Caduceus would get better use from this.'

'You have magic enough for this,' he assured her. He paused, as if trying to think of the right way to phrase it. 'Ah...this staff's magic...I think it is very much in your bailiwick.'

Still doubtful, Yasha took the staff. She went a little way away, not wanting to make a fool of herself if she did something wrong.

Fingers clenched, she activated the staff. At first, she thought that nothing had happened. Then, she realized that a small daisy had sprouted from the end of it.

Caleb was right; this was very much her...bailiwick. Whatever that meant.

Yasha waited until they were well away from the wizard's lair, camping deep in the Empire countryside. There were a few tricks to the staff that had taken her a while to figure out. Using it, she crafted a simple bouquet of bright blue gorse flowers.

'They're usually yellow,' Yasha admitted, when she handed them over. 'But I am told that you aren't the greatest fan of that color.'

Beau gave her a disbelieving sort of smile. 'What does this one mean?' she asked. It wasn't the question she really wanted to ask, Yasha knew. Yasha knew the question she really wanted to ask.

She also knew that the answer would be the same. Instead of answering in words, Yasha took the book from her pocket, and found the right page.

She handed it to Beau, who stared at it for a long time before a grin split across her face. She leaned over, and pressed a kiss to Yasha's lips. 

'Love for all seasons,' she whispered. 'You fucking flirt.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a story about Yasha taking the magic initiate feat to get druidcraft, but turned into this instead. The staff is, appropriately, a staff of flowers. 
> 
> Excuse the typos, I am phone posting.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
